Rebecca Winters: At His Service: Flirting with the Boss

“What did the doctor say about her eye?”

A tight band constricted Remi’s lungs. “Barring a miracle I’m afraid there’ll be permanent damage. It’s a matter of how much.”

“That’s a tragedy.”

Diego frowned. “I wonder if she could possibly be the American who stopped at the entrance to the estate right before the accident happened.”

It had to be Jillian. She’d mentioned talking to one of the workers. “Was she blond?”

“Like liquid gold.” Diego made a gesture with his hand, the kind that meant the woman’s looks could strike a man dumb. “She wanted to talk to the owner. I told her to call you.”

He lowered his head. She wouldn’t have to do that now, but the fact that she hadn’t brought it up yet led him to believe she didn’t plan to. He gritted his teeth.

“I’ve got to get going.” Remi looked at Paco. “Call me if an emergency comes up.”

“Por supuesto.”

After thanking both men, he took off for Madrid wondering what her visit to the estate yesterday had been all about. Before long he’d have answers, but right now he intended to stay within the speed limit. It would be a long time, if ever, before he could shake off yesterday’s trauma.

Once back in Madrid he checked in at a hotel near the hospital to shower and shave. A change of shirt and trousers made him feel more human. When he glanced at his watch, he realized she would have eaten her lunch a long time ago. He’d buy something for himself in the cafeteria and take it up to her room to eat while she worked.

The police wanted to talk to her, but he’d put them off by telling them about her eye injury. At that point they agreed to wait until she was settled at the estate.

Everything had been decided, except that she hadn’t been let in on Remi’s plans yet. In his gut he knew she’d say no, but he was already prepared for her response. If there was one thing he was good at, it was negotiation—an art that had pulled the family business on solid footing again no thanks to his brother.

Two years ago all had looked hopeless, but something inside hadn’t let him give up. If he had anything to say about it, he wouldn’t let her give up, either, no matter the prognosis.

Forty-five minutes later he entered her hospital room to find her bed empty. Either she was in the bathroom, or down the hall getting some exercise.

Three more flower arrangements guaranteed to cheer her up had been wheeled into the room on a small cart; one of pink carnations, the other two a mix of wildflowers. Any more furniture in the room would make it impossible for the nursing staff to maneuver.

He lowered the suitcase to the floor next to the wall. After putting her purse on the side table, he sat down in the only chair and began munching on his steak sandwich while he waited for her to appear.

A few more seconds and the bathroom door opened. When she saw him, she let out a squeal and held the back of her gown together, the epitome of the modest female.

He struggled not to smile. “I’ve closed my eyes. Let me know when I can open them again.”

Her bare feet made a padding sound as she hurried past him. He heard the sound of her raising the head of the bed with the remote. Then came the rustle of the sheet. “You can look now.”

When he dared, he noticed she’d already reached for her purse and was brushing her hair. It splayed about her neck and shoulders in a silky swirl.

“Thank you for bringing me my things. Throughout this whole experience you’ve gone way beyond the call of duty and I’ll be eternally grateful. But now that I have my belongings back, I want you to leave. If you try to do anything more for me, then I’ll start to feel uncomfortable.”

He’d known what she was going to say before she said it, so he deliberately finished off the rest of his sandwich before speaking again.

“I thought you wanted your laptop. If you’ll allow me, I’ll open your suitcase and set it up for you.”

She shook her head. “I’ll do it.”

“The doctor cautioned you’re not supposed to bend over yet. The sudden blood flow to your head might disturb your wound.”

“I—I didn’t know that,” she stammered. “He should have instructed me. ”

“He assumed I would tell you.”

After a moment she said, “When the nurse comes in again, I’ll ask her to do it.”

Remi could only see her one eye. Between darkly fringed lashes it shimmered a green hue like new shoots of spring grass. Combined with the gleam of her golden hair, he discovered her coloring was like the velvety gold liquid with its glints of green found in a prized bottle of Goyo’s extra fine virgin olive oil—one of the most beautiful sights in the world to him when held up to the light.

He lifted a dark brow. “Why bother her with a nonmedical request when she’s been run off her feet bringing you flowers from all your admirers.”

She fidgeted with the sheet. “They’re from my brother and the people at work.”

“I’m sure you’re sorely missed.” He rose to his feet. “Since I’m here, why not let me help?”

She looked away quickly. “All right,” she said in a tentative voice. “Thank you, but then you have to go.”

Remi let that comment pass and reached for her suitcase. He put it on the chair. “What’s the code on the lock?”

“K F G.”

Her husband’s initials?

He opened it with no problem. Beneath the padding of several layers of filmy lingergie he found her laptop nestled among her clothes. The adaptor was already attached to the cord. All he had to do was insert it in the Internet outlet on the wall behind her bed.

“There you are.” He placed it on her lap, inadvertently brushing her arm in the process. The touch of her soft, smooth skin shouldn’t have fazed him, but to his chagrin he felt her warmth long after he’d straightened away from her bed. That hadn’t happened for several years. He hadn’t thought it possible to respond to a woman’s touch ever again.

Out of the periphery he watched for her to lift the lid, but she made no such move. Clearly she wanted him out of her room and her life, but he had no intention of going anywhere.

Instead he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and called Fermin, who ran the bottling plant on the estate. Today the weekly shipment to England needed to be loaded onto the trucks. Remi normally checked every case that went out, but today Fermin would have to be relied on to do it without him.

In order to start making a profit, Remi had long ago pared down the staff to the hardest workers who remained loyal to him. Judging by Luis’s figures, Remi’s efforts had paid off and everything was going well, even better than expected.

After planting himself in the chair, which he purposely turned the other way to avoid the frustrated looks Senora Gray kept sending him, he immersed himself in conversation with the older man who knew the business like the inside of his pocket. They discussed rehiring Jorge Diaz.

The younger man had been wanting to come back to Goyo’s on a permanent basis for some time now. Remi conceded that Jorge had always been a good worker, even if he’d been caught between conflicting loyalties for a time. When he and Fermin finally concluded business, Remi promised he’d think about it.

On a final note he told Fermin he would find a sizable bonus in his next paycheck for sticking with him over the last two difficult years. It would be the first of many such installments for his unfailing devotion to Remi and the business.

The older man got all choked up before they said goodbye.

Without pausing for breath Remi phoned the company that had done the wiring for the Internet on the estate. He wanted someone sent out as soon as possible to put an outlet in the master bedroom of the main house.